


Day 6 - Please…

by Accal1a



Series: Whumptober 2020 [6]
Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux, Sidewinder Series - Abigail Roux
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Military Training, SERE Training, Threat of Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a
Summary: Ty and Nick may have managed to get through all sorts of training in their military careers, but this might be the hardest one yet.
Relationships: Ty Grady & Nick O'Flaherty
Series: Whumptober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949002
Kudos: 5
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Day 6 - Please…

**Author's Note:**

> No 6. PLEASE….  
>  ~~“Get it Out” |~~ **No More** ~~| “Stop, please”~~

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248."

Objectively, Ty knew that Special Forces meant that they would go through training of all types. He knew that the training would be brutal. He knew that a very high percentage of candidates washed out. He knew that there was a reason for that. Special Forces had to be lethal. They had to be constantly on their game. They had to be elite in every sense of the word.

All of that objectivity went out of the fucking window under the current training…because FUCK THIS. Fuck this so much.

_Cut._

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248."

It wasn't quite so bad when it was just him, and the pain. The pain he could withstand, pain was something he'd had to deal with many, many times in his career and life.

He had been stripped, beaten, and hooded for long periods of time. He had absolutely no idea how long he had been there. He was exhausted, bruised, and disoriented. He didn't know when he had slept last, couldn't remember ever being this cold and thought he might have been going delirious after a period of time, and still all he said was name, rank, and serial number. That was all he would ever say, all he was _supposed_ to say, but goddamn it was hard sometimes.

_Punch._

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248."

Even though this kind of pain was extreme, even though he wasn't sure how he would heal, whether he would have scars and lasting damage, he still knew that it was something he could endure. This was something he could weather because he wanted this career. He wanted this role. He would be the best fucking Special Forces operative the Force Recon marines had ever seen, and goddamn he was not going to wash out on _this._ He could weather this, just as he had weathered the PT, because he wanted it, because he could _taste_ victory.

"We have other measures that we can use. You're already naked, pitifully so. It would be so easy for us to progress further…" The man mused. "Still, if you just tell us what we need to know, we will let you go."

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248."

Of course it wasn't going to be that fucking easy was it? Because nothing fucking ever is.

Even though he didn't know when it would end, he felt like he at least had a handle on things…that was until the people he was in this oh so wonderful room with started with the psychological torture instead. _That_ was the thing that could potentially break him…if he let it.

"Your friend is breaking, and we'll stop the pain on him if you just give us what we want."

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 236350796." Ty repeated. He could hold his own. Nick could hold his own, he knew this. They weren’t getting anything.

The men who had been tormenting him for untold hours changing tack once again made his head spin. He had stupidly thought that the physical abuse, the threatened sexual abuse, the actual sexual humiliation would be where this ended, but that was not to be.

_Electrocution._

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248." He said after he had control of his mouth back.

He caught himself, just for a second, thinking about giving up, about crying uncle and drawing an end to this training, but he didn’t know if he had done enough, if he had endured enough to pass the task and he'd be damned if he was the one to stop this, no matter how much he wanted to. The brass would have to draw a stop to this when he'd passed the rigors of the ordeal, and not before.

The crack of the whip across his back had him thinking about old films, and he took a brief moment to think about how much this probably hurt horses, and he felt sorry for them…which was a surprise in and of itself. He fucking hated horses.

No. He couldn't crack up now. Not yet.

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248."

They thought they could use Nick against him? Use his own torture, listening to the grunts that he elicited when he was hurt, as if that was the thing that would make Nick give up. The idiots. He had so many broken bones from his hellish childhood, that Ty doubted this even ranked high enough for Nick to care about it.

All he heard from Nick was the same answer he himself was giving. Just name, rank, and serial number, and Ty was proud of his friend, knew that they would both get through this, pass with flying colours, and continue on, side by side as they always did.

"This can all stop. Any time." The man said, before bringing in water and a wet towel.

Waterboarding. G _reat._

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248." He gasped when they gave him a much-needed breath.

Even when they finally unhooded him, it was to enable him to see a video feed, of a man working over his best friend, and even sitting there, naked, aching all over he was proud of him.

"Staff Sergeant Nicholas Reilly O'Flaherty. 236350796"

_Punch._

"Give up the information we require and we'll stop." The man in front of Nick said.

Nick spat blood onto the floor before smiling, repeating what he had been saying for what seemed like a millennia.

"Staff Sergeant Nicholas Reilly O'Flaherty. 236350796."

~~~

The two men didn’t really remember the end of the training. They were too delirious with pain, hunger, near-hypothermia, and the knowledge and guilt they had from how close they came to giving up.

The mandatory therapy they needed to go through was a necessary evil, even though they didn't go as deeply as they could have done.

That was what Deuce was for. Ty knew that Nick had taken Deuce up on the offer of counselling as well, and he was grateful.

They knew that if they were ever put in the position of needing their training they would be able to endure.

~~~

Years later, when he and Nick had been taken by the enemy, he thought back on the hellish SERE training and felt himself relieved that he had been trained for a POW experience.

He would fucking get through this too, he and Nick would get out of the situation they were in and they could kill every single motherfucker who thought they could get anything from him.

He was Ty Grady, Force Recon Marine, and badass. They'd get out of this and get home and continue onwards in their careers.

Both Nick and he could do this. Fuck the enemy.

"Staff Sergeant Beaumont Tyler Grady. 022345248."

"Staff Sergeant Nicholas Reilly O'Flaherty. 236350796."

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit the [Cut & Run Discord Server](https://discord.gg/vvy6c76) and join us as we discuss/scream about this awesome series.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> Fancy joining a multi-fandom Discord server where you can ~~squee with~~ chat with like minded people? Have I got the place for you!
> 
> Come and join **The Fandom Playhouse**. You don't have to be mad to [join](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD), but it does help...


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